


Chaos

by RydiaAsuka



Category: Tales of Graces
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 01:59:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RydiaAsuka/pseuds/RydiaAsuka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One wants to protect, another wishes only to be saved, and the third...wishes to use them both. When the last battle goes wrong, can Asbel still save him, or has it all been for naught?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so, there are a lot of subtle little nuances that I stuck into this fic that I am honestly not expecting people to pick up on in one read. In fact, some of them are so subtle people might have to be mind-readers to do so. At any rate, just, uh, try to remember that while you’re reading it, please? It’s not black-and-white clear-cut, and I would argue that it seems more OoC than it actually is? Unfortunately, I can’t express that properly, because half of this story is subtext. 
> 
> Now, onto more general terms… I have never written anything remotely similar to this before, so…uh, this is a pretty big jump for me. I would love feedback, because I can see just by looking at this piece that there’s a lot of room for improvement. I actually have no idea if this is any good, because it is a huge jump for me. 
> 
> At any rate, I hope y’all enjoy! Happy reading!

Disclaimer: Tales of Graces and all affiliated characters and settings are property of Namco-Bandai. No copyright infringement is intended; no profit is being made.

Warnings: Dark themes and implied dub-con.

_Chaos_

“ _Brother_!!”

Malik’s hand tightened on his bladerang’s hilt as he watched his student’s body fly through the air; Asbel landed several feet away, hitting the ground hard enough to bounce several inches before dropping in a limp heap. It was a stressful wait before he finally saw a twitch as his pupil struggled to get up, signalling that life remained. Letting out a sigh of relief, the blond came back to himself just in time to jump out of the way of the residue of one of Richard’s spells.

“Asbel!”

Forced to turn away from the scene, Malik could only hope that Sophie or Cheria could get to Asbel before their opponent did. To that end, he wasted no time in hurling his weapon at Richard—Lambda?—in an effort to distract the beast from harming his student further.

From the start, the fight had been chaotic. Cheria and Sophie had both been needed to cover for the team’s injuries, while himself and Pascal had attempted to cast. Hubert and Asbel had been stretched too thin covering the four of them, though, so that had not lasted long. Lambda’s speed and agility had quickly broken himself and Pascal up, sending him on the physical offensive, while the Amarcian struggled to unleash her spells.

“ _Gale Maw_!”

It was with no small amount of relief that Malik spotted the young lord surging past him, sword pointed forward as he stabbed it into the…the _creature’s_ body. Despite the blood and grim staining the white finery that Asbel so favoured, the young swordsman looked none the worse for his ordeal.

“Brother, look out…!” In response to Hubert’s cry, the auburn-haired teen spun, jumping back in the nick of time.

“We cannot win this, Captain Malik.” At the younger brother’s words, his lips could only tighten. He suspected that Hubert was right. Dammit, he _knew_ it, but hearing it just made the disaster that was their situation all the more real.

“ _Aaaah!_ ” With a piercing cry, Sophie streaked passed them, legs pounding as she readied herself to jump. She never made it, as instead she was swept aside effortlessly, her slender frame sliding several feet before halting a number of metres from them, where she lay panting.

“Sophie! Strands of l…” Cheria’s words trailed off in a fearful gasp as their enemy lashed out, effectively disarming their swordsman. Asbel had been attacking Lambda, his sword fighting to reach the monster frantically, yet to no observable benefit to them. Instead, all it served to do was let Lambda grab Asbel by the throat on one of the kid’s backswings, effectively cutting off the attack of the entire party.

To his side, Malik noted that Hubert was crouching, blood clumped in his hair and trickling down his face as he panted, staring hard at the creature holding his brother. The blue-haired teen’s grip was tight on his weapon, though; he was ready to attack at the first sign of an opening.

A quick glance behind him revealed Pascal, her shotstaff held out in front of her as she glared at Asbel and Lambda with a hateful intensity. Beside her, Cheria was crouched over Sophie, the pink haired girl helping the humanoid sit up. The expression on Sophie’s face was one of pure fury, yet the girl could not even sit up on her own, never mind attack. It was only a matter of time until she pulled herself together, but until then, they were on their own. 

And Asbel. The monster still had him by the throat. The white-clad teen was balanced on his toes, to keep from hanging by the throat, his hands clutching the beast’s wrist tightly. A short distance away, Excalibur was lying uselessly where it had been knocked aside. It would not be helping anyone anytime soon.

It was painfully obvious, even from that distance, that Asbel could not breathe. At least, not well enough, given the way it appeared as though his limbs were turning into gels. In fact, on closer inspection, Malik was not convinced that Asbel was not simply hanging there, rather than standing on his toes.

“Did you honestly think to defeat me, Asbel?” The voice that spoke was condescending, arrogant, and both so very far from the Richard they knew, yet still so similar, that it was almost painful. Despite that, Malik would have done him in in a heartbeat, if not for his pupil’s steadfast belief that _this_ was the right path.

And look at where it had gotten them.

“Well? Answer me, Asbel!” Yet a feeble struggle was the only response from the would-be knight. It was then that Malik made up his mind: The first opening he got, he would kill Richard—kill _Lambda_. He would deal with Asbel later, but it was just _not_ worth all of them dying, and that was the way this was going. He would do what he had to in the here and now, and he could deal with the consequences later.

Of course, no amount of resolve was going to help them now. So long as it held Asbel, they were incapable of acting, lest they put his life in danger. There had to be something they could do, though. Standing here watching it taunt all of them was just unacceptable.

Much to Malik’s relief, the monster finally set the teen down, clearly loosening its hold enough to allow the boy breath. Now if only there was something they could do… Hubert wasn’t in any shape to act, the girls were too far away, and Asbel…that only left him. But what could he do? So long as it had Asbel…

“Tell me, why do you struggle so in vain? Your futile efforts will not avail you!”

“W-we fight…because someone has to…save you, Richard…” The conviction in Asbel’s tone, despite the obvious pain the teen was in coupled with the shortness of breath, was almost enough to make the blond’s own conviction waver. How was he supposed to break them up and kill Lambda? Asbel…would hate him. He had to do it, but Asbel would hate him.

“My brother does not have what it takes for this.”

Not looking at Hubert, the blond knight was silently thankful for the younger teen’s words, which echoed his own thoughts. It was true, Asbel was _not_ strong enough for this; he did not have the mental state to kill a friend. This was up to them.

“Wait you two, Richard…”

“They have fused, Cheria. There is no ‘Lambda’ and ‘Richard’ any longer. They are one and the same…and I fear that Lambda has won.” Silently, Malik agreed with Hubert, though he did not vocalise his thoughts. “If we do nothing, Brother will be killed.”

Silently, the pink-haired girl dropped her gaze, before glancing back behind her to where Pascal was helping Sophie walk over to them. “I can’t like this. Asbel—”

“—is going to die if we continue to do nothing.” Pausing, the blue-haired teen adjusted his glasses as he pushed himself weakly to his feet. “He will just have to understand.”

“Tell me, Asbel! Why do you fight so? Tell me!” Quickly shifting his attention back to the two standing a short distance away, Malik could only grit his teeth as he watched what had once been Richard shake the boy like a ragdoll. “Tell me! Why do you care so much? Why do you risk your life for this? _Why do you two care so for one another_?!”

In retrospect, maybe it was not surprising that Lambda could not seem to understand what it meant to have friends; what it meant to care for others. It was sad, but it would be a lot sadder if he succeeded in destroying Ephinea. They needed to do this.

“I’m worried about this.”

“Me too, Pascal,” he agreed gruffly.

“No, I mean…I’m really worried about this. If Lambda and Richard _have_ fused, then wouldn’t Richard’s feelings be affecting Lambda’s, too? Just listen to what he’s saying: ‘Why do you two care so for one another?’ What do you think that means? I think that that’s one really confused entity.”

“…what do you mean?” Hubert asked tentatively, worry plain on the young lieutenant’s face.

“I mean what I said, Little Bro. Lambda hates everyone—Asbel included—and Richard’s bitter…but _not_ towards Asbel. I think…”

“Pascal,” Cheria ventured when the Amarcian did not continue right away, “what are you saying?”

“I’m saying—Richard’s _in love_ with Asbel. Ho—”

“ _What_?!”

“—how is that going to affect Lambda’s opinion on him? He could kill Asbel easily, but he’s not. He’s talking to him. I don’t think Lambda knows what to do with Asbel. On one hand, it means Asbel’s not in direct danger…yet. But that dam is going to break sooner or later, and something is going to have to happen. It might save Asbel, but it might make this a whole lot worse on him.”

“So, you’re saying that…” Malik began cautiously.

“We need to do something before the chance to do so gets taken out of our hands.”

“W-wait. Richard’s not…in love with Asbel.”

“I must agree with Cheria on this, Miss Pascal. Whatever brought you to that conclusion?”

“My teasing. Asbel at least acted flustered. Richard never said a word.”

“…so?”

“He never denied it.”

“The claims were absurd! He shouldn’t hav—”

“—I hate to interrupt, but we don’t have all day to stand here debating His Highness’ feelings. Hubert, can you back me up? Pascal, try to cast something to draw his attention away from my attack. Cheria, cover us. Sophie…”

“I’m coming with you.” A quick glance confirmed that Sophie was on her feet and looking ready for blood.

After a moment, Malik nodded. “Let’s go then.”

Gripping his weapon, the knight moved cautiously towards their foe and his captive. To his left, he could see Hubert flanking him in his periphery. To his right, Sophie was walking alongside him, her face painted with grim determination.

“—do _not_ say that! You have no business insinuating who I am!”

“I-I don’t…yo-…- _chard_ ,” came Asbel’s weak response, the teen clearly struggling for every syllable. Still, so long as he could keep going, keep talking, he was distracting their opponent from their advance. Just a little bit longer…

They were close enough to see Asbel’s face. His right eye was sealed closed with dried blood, stemming from a gash above his eyebrow. The hair on the back of his head was clumped, too, probably from when he had hit the ground, but thankfully it was not wet. Cheria had fixed that one, at least.

Blood and dirt stained his clothing in a conglomeration that made discerning one from the other almost impossible. The worst of it, though, were the trails he could see leaking from Asbel’s neck, under the tightly-gripping claws of Lambda.

The expression on the boy’s face was really what did Malik in. Despite the closed eye, it was not hard to see the frantic determination in the set of Asbel’s jaw, or the way he held his head just a bit too high in defiance. How he was not terrified…well, Malik did not know, but he had to admire the boy for that.

“I should just kill you!”

That line was the trigger to everything. Before Malik could even think to act, Sophie was launching herself forward with a snarl like a feral cat. Without even turning, the creature’s free arm swung his blade, sending the girl sailing through the air to land in a heap. The backlash caught Hubert, who had moved to try and cover Sophie, and sent him flying in the other direction.

“Get back!” As Lambda screamed, he began exuding eleth, the pure energy of the Lastalia beginning to enclose himself and Asbel in some sort of barrier. Realising that time was running out, Malik launched his weapon, only to have it effortlessly blown aside where it clattered to the floor a ways in front of him. Cursing, the blond knew he had one of two choices: Live to fight another day, or throw caution to the wind and trust his friends to back him up.

It was not really a choice.

Launching himself forward, Malik was barely able to make it inside before the barrier closed, cutting them off from the others as effectively as a stone wall. The pulsating red-and-black of the walls were nauseating to look at, and the small space already carried the scent of iron, but neither of those things had Malik’s attention. No, his attention was on Asbel’s abused body, which was kneeling on the floor in front of Lambda.

Despite the heaving chest and his obvious inability to stand, the teen’s face was glued on Lambda’s. No matter his own weakness, or the utter hopelessness of his mission, it was clear that Asbel was not going to give up on Richard. It was both admirable and sad.

“Asbel! Asbel, get away from him!” Yet the boy did not even turn his head. His gaze was locked with Lambda’s in such a way that made Malik even wonder if the teen had heard him. “ _Asbel_!!”

“You…! Shut up!” Before he could respond, Malik felt the gripping pain of a Shade Imperial spell striking him, and then darkness hit.

 ~

It took Hubert a moment to recover after being tossed through the air like a toy. Dazed and sore, he pushed himself upright as quickly as he was able, trying frantically to regain his bearings. A quick inspection revealed that he had lost his glasses after being hit, casting the world into a blurry mix of colours that his pounding head did nothing to help with. He could just make out the moving figures of Cheria and Pascal, the latter appearing to be running for him while the former ran in the opposite direction. He could see no one else.

“Little Bro!”

“I am alright, Pascal,” he began weakly, only to find himself engulfed in the girl’s arms before he could react.

“I thought…you flew so _far_. I was afraid…” The stiff hoarseness in her tone spoke volumes.

“I-It is alright, Pascal. I’m fine.” Though, in truth, he was not _that_ fine. His entire body throbbed, and he could feel warm blood leaking down his arm. He also very seriously doubted his capacity to stand up just then.

“You…you better be.”

“I am, Pascal…how are my brother and Captain Malik?” Though, given what had happened to himself and Sophie…he was not so sure that he wanted to know the answer to that. He did want to know how Sophie was, but there was no way Pascal could know that; Cheria had gone to Sophie.

“I…they disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“That…barrier thing, it closed off. They’re all inside.”

Well, that was some good news, at least. At least…there was somebody left to try and free Asbel. Or there was just someone to die along with him. This was just so messed up. There had to be something they could do!

“Can you stand?”

Nodding slowly at the question, Hubert tried to get to his feet, only to stumble as his knees buckled, sending him pivoting into the Amarcian.

“Easy there, Little Bro,” she muttered soothingly, holding him up with one of the soldier’s arms over her shoulders, “how’s about I give you a hand?” So it was that the two of them stumbled over toward where Cheria was leaning over Sophie, the humanoid not having stirred yet.

“Is she okay, Cheria?”

“I think so…but she hasn’t woken up.” The worry on the girl’s face was clear, yet Hubert could scarce find it in him to care as his sea blue eyes turned to lock on the ominous sphere just a short ways from them. So long as Sophie was going to be okay, his only focus was on freeing his brother.

“There has to be something we can do.”

“I’ll try Little Bro…but I don’t think I can break that; it’s pure eleth. Anything I throw at it is just going to get absorbed.”

“Then I’ll go.”

“Wait, Hubert…at least let me heal you first.” Nodding impatiently to Cheria’s words, the teen clenched his weapon tightly. Once the healing glow faded, he took a deep breath and launched himself forward.

His first strike did nothing. His second strike did nothing. His third strike did nothing. His fourth snapped one of his dualblade’s blades. Not even realising how hard he had been hitting, Hubert stared at the broken weapon in dumbfounded silence, hands numb. There was not so much as a pause in the swirling eleth that could indicate where he had been hitting it; he might as well have tried bashing mythril with a stick.

Off to his side, Pascal slowly approached, only to stop next to him. “I tried casting on it. Like I predicted, it just absorbed my attack.”

“There has to be something…!”

“Then let’s figure it out.”

Taking one last long, hard look at the swirling energy, he finally nodded once, before turning to follow her back to the others.

~

Asbel could not explain it, but despite the utter helplessness of his position, he was not scared. Honestly, it was probably downright foolhardy not to be terrified out of his mind, but it was _Richard_ , and Richard…would not hurt him. Despite all of the evidence to the contrary, he had to cling to that belief. If he did not, panic would win.

Kneeling on the ground in front of Richard, Asbel made no move to get up. The young monarch was angry enough, without him acting offensively. Besides, he was far from certain that he even _could_ stand, given the wobbliness of his own legs. In fact, he was utterly lightheaded and his neck hurt. Dimly, he could hear the Captain shouting for him in the background, but never mind running, he did not even have the energy to stand. In fact, the only thing he could do was stare into Richard’s eyes.

A moment later, he snapped out of it when his friend struck his instructor, sending the man to the ground in a senseless pile of limbs and clothing. Staring hard at the knight’s unconscious form, Asbel honestly felt his conviction waver for a split second, only to harden it again. He would not give up on Richard, because someone had to believe in the blond monarch, and that someone was going to be him.

“Look at me, Asbel!”

Slowly, his open, blue eye turned to meet amber-and-red once more. Richard’s gaze was clouded—how long had it been like that?—but his friend was still in there. That alone made all of this worthwhile. He wanted to believe that the other would not kill him, and the longer this went on, the more convinced he was becoming. Lambda wanted to kill him, of that there was no doubt, but there was also no doubt that Richard was holding him off somehow. Maybe the others were right in saying that the two had fused almost beyond recognition, but he…he _would_ split them apart once more.

“Richard…I’ll do anything for you, just don’t let him win!” he pleaded quietly, voice strained from his wounded throat.

“You say you will do anything? Prove it! Prove to me that you care for him so much!”

Well, that was not something Asbel really knew how to do. If their—if _his_ —following Richard this far did not show that, then nothing would. Ultimately, all of this had begun _because_ he cared for his friends. So much of his life revolved around that very theme. How else was he to prove that, beyond what he had already done? Still, he was not the sort to back down from a challenge, especially when Richard was involved.

“Wh-what does _Richard_ want from me?” Because as much as he pitied Lambda and wanted to help him, his friend was his first priority. Lambda could come after; would have to come after.

“Are you so dense?” Asbel stared, confused. That really did not make any sense to him. “He already has what he wishes _from_ you. The matter is that he wishes you to surrender yourself.”

Growling faintly, Asbel shook his head. “Surrender? No. I’m not going to give up on saving him!”

“His desires are my desires,” Richard was moving now, shifting to kneel in front of the already-kneeling teen, “and what we desire… _is_ you.”

Asbel could not have hoped to so much as _breathe_ when he realised the other’s intentions, Richard’s possessed form leaning in toward him to grab his lips in a rough, awkward kiss. There was nothing particularly pleasant about it, as chapped lips pressed insistently against his own. The gesture was not especially friendly, and instead rather more than a little possessive.

…and yet, he could not really help the way his body responded, as confusion and wariness were undercut by a faint streak of acceptance. Or maybe it was more than acceptance. Maybe it was a faint streak of want. This was Richard, who in Asbel’s eyes could do no wrong. It confused him to no end, but his own obliviousness aside…the signs had always been there, hadn’t they? So, if this was how his friend truly felt, then was it not acceptable to feel the same way? Maybe…just a little?

He did not know, but he did know that it was going to require a lot of thought, because this was just plain weird. He also knew, however…that denying Richard—the _real_ Richard—was completely out of the question. He wanted the young king to win, and pushing him away would not help with that. He needed to encourage the blond’s feelings to triumph over Lambda’s.

Further contemplation was cut off when Richard broke away, drawing back just enough to shove the would-be knight onto his back and crawl over him. Staring up at the admittedly intimidating figure hovering over him, Asbel was unable to keep the slight trickle of fear off of his own face as he gazed into the arrogant, hateful gaze above him.

“R-Richard?”

“I ask again, how far are you willing to go to prove to him that you care?”

Mouth opening and closing several times, the auburn-haired teen found himself incapable of forming words. Perhaps his subconscious knew what was being asked—demanded?—of him, but his head sure as all hell did not want to acknowledge it.

“ _Answer me!_ ”

“I-if it is within my power and authority… I will do anything for you, Richard…” he finally murmured slowly, eye flicking away from that piercing gaze almost meekly. Well, assuming it did not stray from the realm of humanism, either. He would not hurt others for anyone, not even Richard.

…at least, he thought not. Sometimes it really was hard to say for certain without being faced directly with a situation.

“That is what I wanted to hear.”

There was no ignoring the way his heart began slamming in his ribcage at that. The look he was being sent did nothing to relieve Asbel’s nerves as he watched one clawed hand reach up to stroke his face in what could only be called a tender gesture. Kind action or not, however, the expression on Richard’s face could only be called predatory.

Swallowing heavily, there was little he could do to stop the other as the blond leaned in to kiss him again. This time, though, he let himself kiss back, the gesture tentative and uncertain, but it somehow felt right at the same time. Well, maybe right was not even the word for it, but it did feel better than doing nothing. When teeth grazed his lower lip, the teen parted his lips slightly, not fully certain what was wanted of him, until he felt a warm, damp tongue slip into his mouth.

Eyes widening slightly in surprise, his thoughts were quickly cut off by a faint wince as his eyelashes were pulled on by the dried blood. Without thinking, he reached up to try and clean his eye, a gesture which was long overdue, only to find his hand intercepted by Richard’s. The blond drew back, grabbing his wrist and slamming his arm back down on the cold stone.

“Do not move,” came the warning hiss, the tone enough to make Asbel cease all movement, even had he not already been intercepted. Relaxing his arm instantly, he nodded weakly in compliance, a gesture that earned him a satisfied nod. “Good boy.”

Seconds later, sharp canines were grazing against the skin on his jaw in what was nothing short of a warning gesture. Lying still, he balled his hands into fists and squeezed tightly as Richard’s mouth trailed a path to his neck, where he paused to lick the bruised flesh.

Despite how…awkward, and potentially unwelcome, the situation was, Asbel could not deny that it felt good. His neck hurt, it hurt quite a bit, and the action was almost soothing in its gentleness. Seconds later, he was sucking in a pained gasp as sharp teeth dug into the abused skin. His right eye popped open to join the left in a wide-eyed expression of pain. Tensing, the auburn-haired teen barely managed to resist the urge to try to push the blond off of him.

Breathing heavily through his nose, he closed his eyes and fought to relax as a wet tongue was dragged over the newly-opened wound. From there it moved up and over his jaw to his ear, where teeth delivered a sharp, warning nip. Gasping slightly in pain, Asbel bit down hard on the inside of his own lip, fighting down any responses his body wanted to make out of fear of upsetting Richard. From his ear, it was a short trip back to his lips, where it was impossible for the younger teen to miss the taste of iron on his friend’s tongue, as it explored the inside of his mouth thoroughly.

Now, if there was one thing that Asbel did not know how to respond to, it was…all of this. His body…his body wanted to respond. Despite the pain, there was something enjoyable about all of this, too. He just…did not really…he did not really _mind_ that Richard was doing this to him, because it was _Richard_. Yet at the same time, he knew that it should not be happening. None of that stopped him from kissing back, though, even if the gesture was hesitant and uncertain.

When a hand began to fumble with the front of his shirt, he tensed once again before managing some semblance of relaxation, even as the clawed hand ripped the buttons away and shoved the material aside. As Richard broke the kiss, the blond also shifted back, his head ducking down the newly exposed skin.

As the blond monarch explored his collarbone, before stopping to suck hard , Asbel found himself at something of a loss for what to do. He hated lying here uselessly, but he had been told not to move. Not that he would have any idea what to do if he was permitted to do so anyway, but that was not the point. The point was that Richard was kissing, biting, even _licking_ , his body and all he was doing was lying around like a log.

Carefully, he dared to move one arm, the limb reaching down to cup Richard’s chin and pull the king’s head up to face him. Surprisingly, the monarch complied. As their gazes locked, Asbel found himself suddenly regretting the action as he met those heated, amber-and-red eyes.

“Did you need something, Asbel?” Strangely, that almost sounded like the Richard that he knew so well. It hurt.

“Why…why are you doing this, Richard?” he finally asked quietly, dropping his gaze from his ruler’s.

“ _We_ are doing this because it is what he wants.” And that was the end of that conversation as the chin withdrew from his grasp. The other then shifted further down his body. Half-sitting up, Richard used the position to yank Asbel’s shirt open further, leaving the young lord’s torso exposed. A moment later, there was a tongue on his nipple.

Shivering in unexpected pleasure from the contact, he had to admit that he genuinely enjoyed it. Even when Richard bit him, Asbel could not stop the effect the gesture had on his body. Every part of his common sense said that this was wrong, because he knew it was, but the physical side of him was most certainly responding despite that fact.

Quite suddenly, Richard let off teasing his torso to sit up on his haunches and slip back further. Asbel could only watch in confusion as the other grabbed his boots and yanked them off, tossing the footwear away casually. Suddenly feeling a whole lot less comfortable with the situation, Asbel sat up himself, even as his friend reached up and grabbed his belt.

“W-wait, Richard…I don’t think I’m comfortable wit—” he began weakly, only to be cut off completely as sharp eyes shot up to glare at him pointedly. Shutting his mouth with a click, the teen barely managed to gather the strength of will to continue meeting that gaze. After a moment, the blond’s head tilted back down as he resumed work on the strap of leather circling Asbel’s hips.

Slowly gathering his courage once more, he dared to try again, “ _W-wait_ , Rich—” only to be cut off even faster as a _very_ pointed glare streaked his way. Teeth shutting with a loud clack, there was no denying the way he dropped his gaze meekly. He was just…not stupid enough to risk his life over this. Or his health. He needed to save Richard, and to do that, he needed his strength…and perhaps to make a few sacrifices.

“Lay down,” was all the other said, tone brooking no nonsense, “and life your hips.” Realising that his belt was hanging wide open, Asbel looked back up, mouth opening to protest that he did not want this once more, only to be silenced instantly by a single glance.

Shifting his gaze off to the side, the young lord did as bidden, slowly lowering himself back to the cold stone and reluctantly bucking his hips up so that Richard could pull his lower clothing down and off. The realisation the he was suddenly fully exposed, not merely pantless, drew a sharp blush out of the teen, as well as a faint hiss of breath as chilly air hit his half-formed erection.

“Asbel, look at me.”

Slowly, reluctantly, the would-be knight turned his head to meet Richard’s face. He could feel the deep red staining his cheeks, and had no desire to face the cause of it, but Richard had other plans. Before he could think, clawed fingers had his chin, jerking his head up to meet the other’s gaze fully. Their gazes locked as Richard took a pointed moment to throw the clothing aside and well out of reach.

“Stop resisting us, or I shall be forced to see that you do not care for Richard as you so claim to.”

Biting his lips, the auburn-haired boy nodded as best he could, slowly forcing himself to relax somewhat. This whole thing felt wrong, but he did have to play along for Richard’s sake, so he would try… Besides, it was Richard, and Richard would not intentionally hurt him. Was it really so wrong that his friend might…like him a more than a friend?

“Good. You do know how to behave sometimes. Will I have to worry about any further difficulties from you?” Very slowly, Asbel closed his eyes and shook his head once.

_It’s for Richard…_

Almost before he was done shaking his head, a warm palm grasped his half-hardened member, causing Asbel’s eyes to pop open and summoning a faint, pleased gasp from the teen. This was followed by a second pleased sound as Richard’s hand stroked him, his hips bucking up a short distance to press himself further into the attentive hand.

A glance at the other’s face revealed an almost arrogant smirk, which only served to redden the teen’s face further. As if this was not weird enough, Richard had to be mocking him! Sure, he had not said anything, but…

No, he needed to calm down. He was starting to panic, that much was obvious, and that would never do. If he freaked out, then who would come through for Richard? He _needed_ to do this.

An unexpected, sharp squeeze drew a soundless gasp out of Asbel, whose eyes widened greatly from the painful-yet-pleasurable gesture. This could be worse, it really could be, so even if he…did not want it happen this way, he could take it. He could and would bear anything for Richard.

Moments later, his penis almost throbbing from the unfamiliar attention, he felt Richard draw back, summoning an utterly pathetic whimper from Asbel. The teen managed to push himself back up onto his elbows to watch the blond, who, he realised with embarrassment, was scanning his mostly-naked body thoroughly. When he was not intercepted, Asbel slowly began to sit up, taking care not to set off his companion’s temper.

“R-Richard…?”

Ignoring him, the blond shifted off of him, giving Asbel the chance to shift to his knees so that he was almost decent. Suspicion grew in the would-be knight, however, as the other moved to sit down, his legs propped up and very notably splayed.

“Come, Asbel,” came the sharp command. Swallowing, he did as bidden, slowly inching over so that he was kneeling next to one of Richard’s knees. A quick quirk of a clawed finger and a frown had him on the move again, this time to settle reluctantly between the spread limbs. Apparently, that was not fast enough for Richard, because the older teen dug one hand into Asbel’s short locks, dragging his face in toward the still-clothed crotch.

“Hurry up, Asbel, I do not care to wait all day.” Well, if the cues had not been clear enough before, they certainly were now.

Hands shaking, he cautiously peeled the odd fabric of Richard’s pants out of his way. The action was difficult, given that his head was being held firmly in place, but he managed to free the bulge inside with some effort. That taken care of, he squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that there was any other way to help Richard. Knowing that wishing would get him nowhere, he took a deep breath and slowly, cautiously, engulfed the mostly-hard member with his mouth. Once he had done so, the grip on his hair loosened, giving him some freedom to move, but still not releasing him entirely.

Breathing in hard through his nose, Asbel fought to figure out what to do. This was just about the furthest thing from something he had ever done before, or really ever dreamt of doing for that matter, and he had no real idea what to do.

Winging it, he began by rubbing his tongue along the phallus, a gesture which drew a pleased-seeming noise from Richard. Slightly encouraged, he repeated the action, coupling it with a slight descent to further engulf the other’s manhood. Repeating the action several times, Asbel finally glanced up to get a read on Richard’s face. The monarch’s eyes were trained directly on him, a fact that almost made his jolt back, save for the hand holding his head in place.

“Are you done?” Blinking, he turned his gaze back upwards, meeting those intimidating orbs. “You heard me just fine. Your job is not to make me cum. So, are you done?”

Confused, Asbel began to shrug, only to stop at a pointed tightening of the fist in his hair. After a moment, he nodded minutely. The moment he did, Richard’s hand left, allowing him to withdraw. Doing so immediately, he was about to sit back on his haunches when an oversized claw touched his right cheek, running across the bloodied skin—wait, bloodied? When had…?— before curling in, indicating a want for him to approach.

Leaning in, Asbel needed no further cues to press him lips to Richard’s. This was something that he could definitely deal with. He…he liked kissing Richard, as odd as that was, and while the rest was honestly more than he was comfortable with, this was not.

Without the kiss breaking, Asbel found himself being pushed onto his back. Shifting compliantly, it was not long before he was stretched out on his back again, Richard laying flush against him as they kissed long and hard. For the first time since this had begun, Asbel took the initiative to touch Richard without permission, his arms wrapping around the other’s neck, one hand buried in the silver locks while his other lay flat on the skin of Richard’s back.

After a moment, he dimly noted that his king was moving to crouch over him once more, but he did not think anything of it as the weight lifted off of him. Even when one of Richard’s hands moved to fist his hair, he just let it go. It became less possible to ignore things when he felt the second clawed hand slide under his back to pull his hips up, though. Tensing, he tried to break free of the kiss, only to find his head held firmly in place.

Breathing heavily through his nose, he tried to tell himself to trust Richard and that everything would be fine _because_ it was Richard, only he was not really convinced. His fears were only further exacerbated when he felt something hot and damp press up against his rear. He was not given time to think about it, as almost immediately he felt Richard begin to press inside.

The foreign, invasive, and downright _painful_ feeling left Asbel struggling to break free from the kiss, and after a moment, Richard complied. The moment his mouth was free, the teen sucked in several deep breathes before gazing at Richard pleadingly.

“Please, Richard…don’t—I don’t…please, there has to be some other…way…” he begged, voice breaking from the pain, breathlessness, and emotion in him. For a split second, the slightly larger figure paused, as though considering his request. It did not last, and instead all he got what was supposed to be a soothing pat on the cheek.

“Just relax, Asbel, it will hurt less.”

Feeling helpless, because he knew that he _had_ to do this willingly, the young lord tried to force himself to do just that, despite the intense pain that he was experiencing. If Richard was not going to save him from this, then he would just have to…he _had_ to do this, for Richard. His friend might want him like this—the evidence seemed to say as much—but Richard on his own would never do this. It…it was just further incentive to separate them and get _his_ best friend back.

…right?

It was a long, painful period while he was entered, his sphincter muscles protesting sharply at the intrusion, but he fought to relax as best he could. Richard did not even seem to care that he had a painful grip on those soft, silver locks, or about the four furrows he had dug into the flesh of the monarch’s back.

“Relax Asbel.” Glancing up at the almost soothing words, Asbel shuddered a bit before trying yet again to calm himself. “It is okay. I will wait a moment while you adjust.” Somehow…the understanding tone was almost worse. This was…was it really his Richard, not Lambda? No, it could not…no. They were still—he needed to do this. Richard would not make him do this! It was Lambda’s fault!

“Richard…” he murmured, voice thick with discomfort, “please…” At least he was adjusting, slowly. As much as it hurt, it would hurt so much more to lose the best friend; his king.

“Shh, Asbel, I will wait.” How could he be so composed? “Just calm down.” Still, the tone was having the intended effect, and Asbel was relaxing. The pain had faded to just a dull throb, and he actually felt sort of okay, minus the obvious intrusion in his body.

“I-I’m okay now, Richard,” he finally murmured. That was all the other needed to slowly draw his hips back and push back in. It hurt, but not as badly as it could have, which remained the general consensus for the next few thrusts, also. At least, until Richard found his prostate. From that point on, he could not really stop himself from actually participating, even if just in the form of pleased sounds. Richard was doing this because he loved him anyway, right? That was what he had been told, and he was going to cling to it. That was why…it felt good, felt okay, and so it _was_ okay.

Richard…could do what he wanted with him, because this _was_ Richard, and Richard loved him.

~

The first thing Malik came aware of as he came to was the pain in his skull. Despite that, he knew that he had to move. Shifting carefully, he half pushed himself up, moving as silently as he could as he searched for Asbel and Lambda. It did not take him long to spot them, and when he did, part of him wished that he had not.

Asbel was kneeling on the ground, his shirt torn open and rumpled and…he was not wearing any pants, or Malik missed his guess. Feeling dread well up in his gut, he forced himself to examine the scene further.

Lambda was kneeling in front of Asbel, the creature staring at the top of the teen’s head as said teen stared at the floor. It took all of his will not to launch himself straight for that…that _beast_. Eventually, Lambda said something that drew Asbel’s gaze up, the former leaning in to…to kiss the latter? Okay, that was unexpected, but it did not make any of this better. Neither did the willing, almost desperate way that his student responded. In fact, it was very likely making things worse.

Spotting his weapon a few feet away, the knight inched over slowly, until he could silently pick it up, eyes never leaving the pair. Luckily, his shifting had placed him behind Lambda. Trying to ignore the pounding in his own skull, he took a deep breath, stealing himself for the final charge. He didn’t know how late he was, but he had to do something for Asbel.

Launching forward, he let out a harsh cry, hoping to throw Lambda off long enough to hit it. What he was not expecting was the way Asbel’s eyes widened as the teen saw him, or the way the boy lunged to his feet, shoving Lambda aside to plant himself between the two would-be opponents.

“Stop!”

“…Asbel?” he asked slowly, trying pointedly to watch the youth’s face, because he _had_ been right; Asbel was naked from the waist down. “Wh-what? Why are you protecting him?”

“It’s Richard, Captain! I don’t care how he looks, it’s _Richard_!” Oh great, the kid was delusional. Sure, the thing might have part of Richard in it, but the king Asbel had known was gone.

“No it’s not, Asbel! That…thing isn’t His Majesty anymore.” Behind Asbel, Lambda watched the exchange with almost impassive eyes. “Stop…stop deluding yourself!”

“I’m not! It’s Richard! It has to be!”

Taking a careful step forward, the former knight allowed his eyes to roam the boy’s body at last. Asbel’s cheek was scratched, though the marks appeared shallow and the bleeding had already stopped. Sever bruising marred the boy’s neck, but he had known that that would be there, and Asbel at least seemed to be breathing okay, so it was unlikely lasting harm had been done.

More worrying, though perhaps not more important, was the blood dripping down Asbel’s inner thighs. Some of it came from what could only be claw marks on his hips and thighs, but the rest was not only blood and… Well, Malik was a man, and he knew _that_ particular bodily fluid when he saw it.

“Asbel! It does not have to be anyone, and it is _not_ Richard. His Majesty is gone, and it is time for you to accept that!” Sometimes, being harsh was the only way. He could deal with the consequences later. “Come here!”

“No, it’s—” the kid was not given a chance to finish when Lambda’s hand reached out, landing heavily on Asbel’s shoulder and jerking the teen back.

“Are you two quite finished?”

“Not with you, monster!” he roared in response, raising his weapon pointedly. “Let him go!”

“No, Captain! It’s fine! It _is_ Richard! He’s back! He has to be back!” It was only then that Malik really noticed the frantic note to Asbel’s tone; the wild, frightened look in his eyes. Asbel was not just slightly deluding himself…he was completely gone. He believed this thing to be Richard, and convincing him otherwise would not be easy. In fact, succeeding in doing so might be more than the boy could take right now. However, being confrontational with him would not help, either.

“Asbel…” he began again slowly, tone much more soothing, “come back and we’ll work together to get Richard back, okay?”

“Richard _is_ back!”

“Asbel…do you want to miss your chance to save him?”

“I already did, Captain!” As he was speaking, the teen backed up half a step, placing his back against Lambda’s chest, where the monster added his other hand to his grip on Asbel’s shoulders.

Realising that he was just not going to get anywhere with Asbel, Malik turned to the real source of the problem. “Let him go, Lambda! You got what you wanted, didn’t you? So let him go.”

Lambda just laughed. “Perhaps; perhaps not. But what about what this fool wants? Shall we ask him?”

“ _What_ …?”

“We are going to return to Fodra. Would you like to come with us?”

At that the boy actually did hesitate. “Return to Fodra, Richard? But what about everyone else?”

Much to Malik’s surprise, Lambda’s reaction to that was to…completely dispel the barrier. Within seconds, they could see the others again…and the others could see them. Hubert was on his feet instantly, ready to attack on a dime, Pascal too. Cheria just looked horrified, seated a short ways from them with Sophie’s head in her lap.

“B- _Brother_!!” came Hubert’s frantic voice, eyes wide. Of course…it was obvious from even that distant that Asbel was beaten up, and…well, half naked. No wonder Cheria and Hubert would be so worked up. “Brother!”

“There they are, Asbel. Make your choice. Richard—us—or them.”

That visibly gave the teen pause, as blue eyes flicked to Hubert, drifted to the others, and then back to Lambda’s face. After what felt an eternity, the auburn-haired teen asked, “What will happen if I don’t go with you, Richard?”

“The same as before. Richard wishes to ensure your safety, and to keep you nearby because you make him feel safe.” The sneer on Lambda’s face was apparent, but the beast did not even hesitate in revealing any of this. “That is why he wants you to come with us; I have no further motivation for asking you.”

At that, Asbel remained silent, eyes lingering on his little brother’s face before ghosting to Sophie, and then back to Hubert.

“Make your choice quickly, Boy!”

“Brother, what is he talking about?”

“A-Asbel?”

“Don’t do anything stupid, Asbel.”

“Hey, Asbel…we’re right here.”

“Hubert…Cheria…” he paused, visibly stealing himself, “take care of Sophie for me. If Lambda and I leave…then she won’t have to die. So…I’m sorry, but…” The teen never finished, instead turning his back on them.  

“ **Asbel no!** ” Malik yelled, but to no effect; the teen never even glanced back. Knowing that it was now or never, he launched himself at the duo, only to be blown back effortlessly by a wave of wind eleth. Unable to do anything, he watched as Lambda grabbed hold of his student by the waist, a second, smaller barrier of eleth springing into place as the two floated into the sky.

Quick as that they were gone. Malik was left kneeling on the cold ground, wondering what the hell he had done wrong—what the hell he _could have done right_ —to have stopped this.

…but then again, maybe it was for the best. At least Asbel was gone from here. He only hoped that the teen did not live to regret his choice.

“What happens now, Captain Malik?” To his left, Hubert was standing still as stone, staring off in the direction Lambda had left.

“We go after them, of course! You don’t think I’m lettin’ him get away with this, do you? First off, he can’t have Asbel, and secondly,” Pascal’s tone sobered, “Ephinea will die without the Lastalia.”

“Then what are we waiting for? We have to go after them!”

“Settle down, Cheria; we know where Lambda took him. Right now, we need to focus on regrouping. Let’s take a day, rest and resupply, and then we can go after them. We need to warn the leaders of what has occurred also, lest they be prepared for whatever disasters may come of this.”

“And then we’ll go get ‘em!”

“Yes, Pascal…and then we will go and get them. My brother may be a fool,” Hubert muttered, “but he is the only brother I have. Lambda _will_ return him to me.”

“Yes…we cannot let him keep Asbel. Sophie would be heartbroken.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Cheria,” Malik muttered, shaking his head. “You, or any of the rest of us. We will get Asbel back for both his sake, and the sake of every person who counts on him and loves him.”

“What I don’t get is why he even went in the first place. I mean sure, Richard’s in love with Asbel, I get that, and I sorta think the feeling’s mutual. But what could’ve convinced Asbel to leave Sophie like that?” Pascal paused, frowning. “I just don’t get it.”

Malik could only shake his head. There were darker points to life, things he had seen on the battlefield and elsewhere, that he did not care to explain to these innocent children. Besides, it did baffle him somewhat too, even knowing how people could behave when deluding themselves and desperate.

“You’ll just have to ask him when we get him back,” was all he said instead. There really wasn’t anything else _to_ say.

Awhile later, it was a sorry group of five that stepped onto the teleporter to get carried back to the entrance, where their shuttle waited. Sophie, blessedly, was still unconscious, her limp body draped over Hubert’s back. The whole group was wrapped in a stony silence, each plagued with various thoughts and fears as to the wellbeing of their beloved friend.


End file.
